a lizard on ice // open, human au

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    waste time with a masterpiece

    He decided that red was his favorite color for this piece. Despite the chill of the day, it was supposed to be the best weather that this week would see--clear skies, sunny as hell, warmer than usual--and Nathanael took that day to go off to the park, an easel underneath an arm and a black bag slung over his shoulder.


    The high school student came to the pond and set the easel down, pinning up a sheet of paper onto the board before he rummaged through his bag for the rest of his supplies. A cup of water was filled and set into the holder attached to the side of the easel, a palette of dried pigment cakes was set up on the tray and brushes went to their appropriate ledge.


    The stage is set, Nathanael thought to himself as he surveyed his work, a pleased smirk crossing his features. He pulled up his headphones, firmly set them over his ears to let the music set the mood and dabbed a wet brush into the red before adding vivid red strokes onto the white canvas.

    TAGS ✦ ✧ ✦ — Lyra hated walking into her childrens rooms in the morning, after accidentally sleeping in, and finding them all gone to school. Or in this case, into town and the main parks because it was the weekend. It made her feel guilty especially when she walked into the kitchen and found empty plates with grease on them. Someone had made eggs for the others. She hadn't even though she was the mother and supposed to do stuff like that for her kids. Lyra grimly picked up the plates, washed them, dried them and put them back in their places. She went into her room and pulled on appropriately named 'mom-jeans' before tucking her favourite black t-shirt into them. Then she brushed her coiled, puffy hair, letting ringlets fall onto her face. Lyra checks her scarred face out in the mirror, dark skinned fingers tracing the scar on the side of her mouth. She grimaces and looks away from her reflection, tightening the doc marten laces before setting out. She wants to try and see where her kids are. Maybe take them for some well deserved cafe food. But it was likely they'd all scattered.


    Lyra sighed, adjusting the strap of her side bag that dangled from her shoulder. She walked into the park, brilliant golden eyes looking about until she saw a familiar face sitting behind a canvas. Grinning slightly, she comes closer from behind him and peers at the canvas that has a crimson streak on it. It's nothing much yet but it looks pretty all ready. She likes that he's dabbling in a relatively peaceful hobby. Not wanting to startle him, Lyra comes to the front and waves, knowing he's listening to music. Her kids are often embarassed of her, especially when she's in public, but she just wants to check up on them. "Nathan-" The mother points at his cavnas. "-is this what you do every weekend?" It was good. Much better then spending your weekends with kids, getting drunk. She can only hope none of hers are like that.

    waste time with a masterpiece

    The way the red spread across the paper--he dabbed his brush into the water, letting the color leech out of it before spreading just water from the wet brush across the paper. The original stroke of paint began to bleed into it and using deft movements of the brush, he spread the red, now a pale washed out hue, over most of the canvas.


    How to do Where to go What to do without you...


    Nathan noticed movement in his peripheries and tilted his head slightly, noting his mother there. A lazy smirk came across his features as he reached up to pull the headphones half off so that he could still hear the tinny sound of the music but also Lyra. "Hey mom," he offered before his attention flicked back over towards what he was working on.


    Start with the background and paint up. The farthest back was the sky and he dabbed his brush back into the water again to slowly clear away some of the red from the top of the canvas to make some clouds. "Sometimes, I guess," Nathan answered candidly. "It's fun. Relaxing."

    And, seemingly out of nowhere, out burst a scraggly homeless man from a nearby bush.


    Although Aron objected heavily to that term - he wasn't homeless if his home was a van (that was currently being impounded, since his dumb ass had parked it right in front of a fire hydrant.) He stood up and brushed the leaves from his hair and his clothes, stepping awkwardly out of the bush just as he spotted Lyra and her son. Oops. He hoped they hadn't noticed him. Most people who witnessed a man pop out of a bush were prone to calling the police.


    He quickly began to scuttle past, until he noticed the canvas set up before Nathanael. He paused behind the two of them, cocking a brow before he decided to softly speak up. "Looking good," he remarked, eyeing the canvas with an amused look. Red? For clouds? He supposed he was no artist and therefore had no room to judge, but he found it a little bit strange. Maybe he just didn't get art. "You know, if you are interested in going to art college, I know a guy." He began to dig around in the pockets of his tattered jeans for the business card he still had for some reason, pulling it out and presenting it to the kid between two fingers. He knew the man was still expecting a call from him, not some child, but Aron had no plans to go to school. He was too set on "traveling the world".


    Once he scrounged together enough money to get out of here. The flight from Iceland had been a one-way trip and he didn't really have enough money to catch another one back home. Aron cast a glance at Lyra, squinting at her like she was blurry. He had seen her around, he was sure, maybe they had met before, but her name just wasn't coming to mind. "I believe we have met before, Miss...?"